


...of silence

by heavvymetalqueen



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Gen, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Vignette, mushing, northern supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-18 17:16:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16521299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavvymetalqueen/pseuds/heavvymetalqueen
Summary: David has made peace with the fact that there is something more than what the eye can see.





	...of silence

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for wish #117: "Pre-MGS1. Something sparse, gothic and bleak with David taking his dogs out into the Alaskan snow to find... something."
> 
> I'm sorry it's this short, but I guess my Finnish spirit played into this and made it small and unassuming. I hope you enjoy it anyway, it was a pleasure to write.

The nightmares get a lot worse at the end of December, and the long nights don’t help. David doesn’t drink, because he knows that if he starts, he won’t stop. He spent the night half asleep, listening to the scratching outside his windows. It was branches and icy wind, but it sounded like a child stuck in a crawlspace.

The dogs are restless but quiet on this gray morning, the snow hard and crunching under their feet. Even Wapun, usually the most level headed lead David has ever trained, squirms in her harness, whining softly.

The sky is a silver slate, the sun barely peeking out of the stark black trees. David concentrates on the sled and the dogs, frost clinging to his lungs with every breath. Eventually Ahanu breaks formation, causing havoc in the whole line. It’s no big deal - he’s been training him to overcome his puppy tendencies. He picks himself up from the snow and unhooks the sled, letting the dogs rest and stretch their legs. Achak stares at the trees, unmoving. David pets his ears, but he doesn’t move.

He lies the old thermal blanket on the snow and smokes a cigarette, watching the smoke curl white against the darkening sky. Hurit, his sweet, sweet girl, tucks her nose in his armpit and whines.

David’s chest feels tight. The dogs are quiet, and the forest almost deafeningly silent.

David has made peace with the fact that there is something more than what the eye can see. There are liquid shadows that never miss their shot, and men that come back from the dead, and the things Master Miller whispers about in Pashto when he’s having an episode. There’s dark shapes under the ice sometimes, making David feel like he’s being watched. There’s whatever leaves claw marks on his door and his car, too large to be a raccoon and the wrong season for a bear.

And, there are human clones bred to be perfect soldiers, that until they were grown up thought they were real people. Maybe that’s why David feels accepted by Alaska when he fit nowhere else. The cold darkness hides its monsters, and they can just live instead of pretending.

Unmoving, David watches shadows shift through the trees, large, ancient. Does it matter whether it’s just the sun setting or something else?

“Good evening,” he says, nodding, feeling a gaze older than the world on him.

It never hurts to be nice to your neighbors.

Once the shadow have passed, the dogs move again, bark at him. He buries the butt of his cigarette in the snow, turns the sled around and harnesses the line again. He goes home, and this time Ahanu behaves all the way back, and gets extra treats for it. He might make it in David’s main Iditarod team yet.

He feeds the dogs, and then makes himself the first hot meal that didn’t come out of Master Miller’s bottomless tupperwares in two weeks.

Before going to bed, he leaves a chocolate bar on his windowsill. Peanuts and raisins. The good stuff.

There’s no scratching against the glass tonight, and in the morning all that’s left is a piece of foil in the snow.

He forgets sometimes, when he’s wrapped in his misery, but it’s good to be nice to your neighbors.

**Author's Note:**

> since Dave names himself an Algonquin name in mgs2, I thought it'd be appropriate to give his dogs Algonquin names too:
> 
> Wapun = Dawn  
> Ahanu = he who laughs  
> Achak = Spirit  
> Hurit = Beautiful


End file.
